Where Is This Prince of Peace?

Since I’m on “sabbatical” (sort of), I decided this year to repost some of the Christmas pieces that are close to my heart, for those who may not have seen them, or who enjoyed them and want to revisit them. This one was posted just last year, after the horrendous attack on Israel. (The music video at the end brought me to tears – again.)

Pray for the peace of Jerusalem! “May they be secure who love you! Peace be within your walls and security within your towers!” – Psalm 122:6-7

With the fast-approaching celebration of the birth of Yeshua, the Messiah, traditional carols have taken on a new meaning to many of us. The unimaginable horrors occurring in the region of the birthplace of Jesus are no doubt adding a sense of urgency to the desire for a Savior to come and deliver His people – to deliver all people – from the evils of this world.

Selah’s rendition of “O Come, O Come, Emmanuel,” has woven into the melody the Israeli national anthem, “Hatikvah.” (Translation: “The Hope.”) It is heart-rending, and the accompanying scenes from “The Nativity Story” complete the picture of the world Jesus was born into, the world He came to save, so desperately in need of Him.

Take a few moments, watch, listen, meditate, and “pray for the peace of Jerusalem.”

Prayer: Lord Jesus, as we ponder Your coming to save us, help us to know You better. Bring us closer to being the people You want us to be. In Your name we pray, amen.

(Another) Answer to a Routine Prayer – from WHERE?!

And your ears shall hear a word behind you, saying, “This is the way, walk in it,” when you turn to the right or when you turn to the left. Isaiah 30:21

It started out as a normal day. (Most of my adventures do these days.) Marty was playing pickleball, but what had become his new passion was off limits for me; twenty years of running had taken its toll on my knees, and starting-stopping-twisting-turning-type activities were a little too risky. I’ll stick with hiking, biking, and kayaking. A two-mile walk to the end of the pier and back is a perfect time to get in my morning prayers.

…or afternoon prayers. With my ADHD tendencies, I am grateful the Lord is patient. This was one of those days, and it was past noon by the time I started out with everything I needed. (When I used to walk the dog and also needed poop bags, treats, and leash, it’s a wonder I got out the door at all.)

My prayers were the normal stuff – offering my body to the Lord (Romans 12:1), offering Him my mind (II Corinthians 10:5, Romans 12:2), etc. As I gave Him my body, mind, and heart, I “put on the armor of God” – the belt of Truth, the helmet of salvation, the breastplate of righteousness (Ephesians 6). When “having my feet fitted with the readiness of the gospel of peace,” I prayed the usual things: that I would go where the Lord wants me to go, encounter the people He wants me to encounter, and speak the words He wants me to speak. This prayer often gives me a sense of anticipation – how will He answer it today? Though I get frustrated with myself, I know God is very good at working with what He has; if I make myself available to Him, He’ll do the rest.

It was mostly a solitary walk. The summer people were gone, and the chill in the air makes one reluctant to get out. But the trees were finally starting to change color, and the “wooly worms” crawled across the path, their black and orange colors (according to superstition) predicting a harsh or mild winter. One was solid orange. (Well, you’re a little optimist, aren’t you?) Across the channel I could see people walking the other pier, most of them bundled up, expect for a few kids in swimsuits jumping into the water. (Insanity isn’t a frame of mind, it’s a way of life.)

On the way back, as I waded through the hundreds of acorns, thinking either there was a bumper crop that year or the squirrels weren’t doing their job, I wondered if they were edible for humans, although I had never heard of anyone eating them. I made a mental note to google it.

I was almost home when a woman in a car stopped and asked me where the lighthouse was. It couldn’t be seen from the road, so I explained that she would have to park and walk past a couple of houses to get to the pier. I noticed three things about her: her walking stick, beautiful blue eyes, and an exotic-sounding accent, I guessed Russian, or maybe eastern European. As I tried to estimate how far it was, and about the spot where she might have trouble walking over some rocks and another section that was sandy, I finally offered to go with her. She parked the car, and I repeated the pier part of my walk, this time a little slower and getting to know my new friend Luda. We had a lot in common – our age, our love of the area, and our active lifestyle – at least until recently. Luda had been riding her bike 20 miles a day, sometimes as much as 50 miles when her husband was living, before an accident that had left her struggling to get around. She was about where I was a year ago, so we talked about hip replacement, and of course I had to tell her how much it helped me to get the sugar out of my diet. It was this sacrifice that had taken me from struggling to walk to walking pain-free in less than two days. She confessed her addiction to sugar – I think most of us can relate – and I told her about some of my recipes for sugar-free chocolates and the baked apples Marty and I have been having for dessert every night. She asked me what I cover the apples with to bake them, and when I said aluminum foil, she scolded me. “Don’t ever let food touch aluminum foil!” Wow, I thought, she’s even more of a health nut than I am. I could tell we were going to get along great! 😉 As we walked through the mass of acorns, Luda said casually, “You can eat these, you know.” (!) She described cooking them and told me about a website where I could learn about things growing in the wild that are good for food – just in case we might need that information to survive someday.

When we got back to her car, Luda told me that she had not wanted to go out that day, but she had forced herself to get out of that chair and go! She said she had walked farther with me than she ever would have by herself. (She wouldn’t have known where to go, anyway.) She had been on her way somewhere else but had “randomly” turned off onto the little road I was walking on, probably about the time I was praying, “Let me encounter the people You want me to encounter.”

Luda gave me a ride home, mainly so we could keep talking. When we pulled up to my house, I ran in to get her some of my sugar free chocolate covered banana slices and my card with my contact information on it. We hugged, and she was on her way.

OK, I have to get ready for church now. Even though there are no Russian Orthodox churches in Manistee (Yes, she is originally from Moscow.), Luda is willing to give my church a try.

Prayer: Lord, thank You for all the times you have answered my routine prayers and made my life a daily adventure. Thank You for sending me a new friend – so near, and yet from so far away! Thank You for Your perfect timing, even with two women struggling to get out – one physically, one mentally (“lol”), and our “random” meeting. Bless Luda today. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Perspective on Being Left

Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect. I Peter 3:15

It was our day in Nassau. The ship had come into port, and all morning a steady stream of people poured off the boat for a day of frolicking in the tropical paradise.

I was brushing my teeth when Marty, who had opted to stay behind, informed me that the kids and grandkids had texted they were ready to leave, and was I coming? I just had to get my shoes on and grab my purse.

“Tell them I’ll be there in five minutes,” I said.

“It’s going to take you five minutes to get down there.”

“OK, six minutes …”

“Too late, they’ve left.”

I admit, my immediate reaction was, What the –?!

I tried to resist the urge to sulk. Considering where I was, a pity party would definitely be out of place.

As I stepped off the ship into the sunshine of a perfect day, “divine perspective” reminded me that everything happens for a God-ordained reason, and I willfully rejected the demon of self-pity. I might sometimes appear to be “alone,” but I have Jesus, so I’m never really alone. Alone with Him is quite a different thing. – Today He wanted me all to Himself!

I wasn’t abandoned. I was on assignment!

A young couple stood on the dock in front of the ship, taking pictures of each other.

“Would you like a picture of both of you?” I asked.

“Oh, would you?! That’d be great!” The man handed me his phone. I took a few of the smiling pair, handed back the phone, and saw them looking at the pictures, beaming their approval.

Well, this is fun, I thought.

Before I reached the end of the long dock, I’d repeated the photo scenario with a few other couples and one family. I hoped the people noticed my pendant with the word “Jesus” in the shape of a cross, but I had a feeling I could do more to represent Him that day besides wearing a piece of jewelry and “being nice.”

Beyond the docks was a cluster of colorful shops, some more like booths at an art fair. I browsed and took in the diversity of faces, accents, and styles. I met a lady sitting at a table outside, petted her friendly dog, and entered the little shop that was there.

I found a t-shirt I knew Marty would like, and as the shop owner was ringing it up, I looked at the jewelry in the glass case. My eyes were drawn to the crosses there. A nudge from the Still, Small Voice told me this was my opening.

“You have some beautiful crosses here,” I commented. The shop owner thanked me, and I could tell from his accent that he was from India.

“Have you met Jesus?” I asked. The words were out before I’d had time to think about them. The man looked a little taken aback.

“No …” he said. “I’ve never met Jesus. I’m Hindu. But I have been in a …” He searched for the word.

“A church?” I asked.

“Yes! A church.”

“So … did they explain the gospel to you?”

“No,” he answered, looking at me intently.

Vaguely aware that we were the only people in the store and not knowing how much time I had, I quickly prayed for the words to sum up the “Good News” as clearly yet briefly as possible.

“We believe one God created everything, including us. We’re made in His image … but we don’t act like Him. We do bad things, selfish things. We make stupid mistakes. We don’t do the things we should.” He continued to make eye contact, nodding slightly.

“For a while, God’s people tried to atone for their sins by making sacrifices – killing a cow, a lamb, whatever. But as soon as the sacrifice was made, they’d blow it again.

“Finally, God said, ‘I’ll send my Son to atone for them, once and for all.’ Sin has to be paid for, and God loved us so much, He sent His Son to be our sacrifice!”

At that moment, the woman I had met outside stepped into the store and asked the man a question in their language. He looked away, and I thought that was the end of my witness. I prayed what I had said would be enough.

Surprisingly, the man answered her in one syllable, and she went back outside. His eyes came back to me with that intent look, as he waited for me to finish the story.

“So, God’s Son – Jesus – came and lived the perfect life we could never live. He was executed in our place. He took the death we deserved, then rose from the dead! If we believe in Him, then His death pays for our sins, and we can be raised up, too – and live with Him forever!

“… Does that make sense?”

As I waited to see if the man needed any more explanation, he looked pensive, then answered, “Yes. It does.”

I know some would follow up with, “Would you like to pray right now to repent of your sins and receive Jesus as your personal Savior?!” But that didn’t seem appropriate at the moment. I just said, “I hope you will think about this,” and he said he would. I could tell he was already thinking about it.

I don’t have a scorecard of people I have led to faith in Christ. Most often, as happened here, my witness consists of “planting seeds,” many of which I never get to see grow into a spiritual harvest. But that’s where faith comes in. I have to believe that God was speaking to that man before I ever stepped into his shop, and that He is continuing to speak to him. I trust that someday in heaven he will be telling me everything that happened after our brief encounter.

Meanwhile, I think of Mahesh and say a prayer for him. Maybe you’ll say one, too.

Father, thank You for the privilege of being a part of Your glorious mission, to reach every living soul on this earth. Thanks for making us Your ambassadors, especially in those unexpected opportunities that You drop into our day. Help us always to be ready to let You speak through us, giving You all the glory, in Jesus’ name, amen.